


Cadenza

by Blooperbloop



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Cello, Fighting, Fluff, Friendship, Guitar, Jealousy, M/M, Music, Musical Instruments, Performance, Romance, Swearing, Violins, a lot of mother involvement, a very thin slice of life, author can't actually play any instruments but she tried
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27191653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blooperbloop/pseuds/Blooperbloop
Summary: He Tian is a musician without any musicality. He's lost it, somewhere, on his journey, with no particular desire to find it.(Then comes Guan Shan, who makes sure to punch into his emotional bruises and lets him know of his shortcomings on this immediately).
Relationships: He Tian/Mo Guanshan (19 Days)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 58





	Cadenza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - swearing
> 
> Notes - I cannot play the violin/cello/guitar and have basically never touched any of those instruments (or know much of anything about music theory)…I’ve tried to make details in regards to the instrument playing as accurate as possible but pls forgive me if you hit an odd detail (in fact tell me and I’ll correct it!), I promise it’s not intentional.

The minute he arrives home his mother comments that it would be nice for him to ‘practice his talents’, a thinly veiled order, and so He Tian obediently prepares his violin without getting a breath of rest.

He introduces himself to the crowd, starting his performance on a piece that he always plays to impress guests: nothing too expressive and niche nor something too popular and tacky. A perfect general crowd-pleaser.

They listen with unaffected faces – bland people listening to bland, uninspired music. He Tian lost the spark for it years ago, and finds that his own face morphs into the same flat look of his audience. He zones out.

Eventually his bow leaves the strings in a gentle diminuendo, easing the music into complete silence.

A cluster of claps follow in a staccato-like fashion, jarring, all coming from the small handful of people gathered in the sitting area, shaped around him like a horseshoe. It was an area partitioned off from the rest of their hall by a series of sofas, armchairs, and loveseats, all of which matched into the same colour scheme: white and grey.

The rest of the family manor was also decorated in this way; washed out colours lined with monochrome highlights. Clinically modern. The outfits of their guests comically matched the décor, all sitting dressed in delicate fabrics and pastel shades.

He bows with a polite smile, violin neatly held close and parallel to the bent line of his body.

“He Tian, a beautiful performance, as always.” His mother chimes and light voices echo the praise like parrots.

He accepts the compliments thrown his way and goes off to the side to pack his violin away, listening into the gentle conversations circulating among the sitters, wiping the rosin off his bow.

Eventually he joins the crowd and flits between guest circles, refills drinks, makes small talk, and laughs at stale jokes. Networking with the people he knew his mother wanted him to network with. She was never as subtle as she thought she was. Or maybe he was just too attuned to it now.

His mind is just a fuzz of grey, completely disengaged with his environment, until a man he’s not familiar approaches him. His stride is both leisurely and purposeful. He Tian is taller than him but the man has presence, doesn’t wash into the background like everyone else.

“Beautiful playing, you’ve really mastered your craft.”

“Thank you, always a pleasure to perform to such an audience.” A remark that wasn’t true, because He Tian was no longer familiar with the positive thrill that came after a performance. His only drives now were routine and muscle memory, nothing else.

The man chuckles. “I’m sure. Say, it’s the summer now, I’ve been told you’re planning to calm down with the tours.” He takes a sip and champagne foam gets into his sparse moustache.

“Yes, I’ve had a busy year, now seems a good time to relax.” He was going into the final year of his studies, this would be the last casual summer he’ll be able to afford.

“Of course, breaks are important. But say, you’ll still need to practice, right? Maintain your skill.”

He Tian nods, shallow and uncommitted because he’s not sure what he’s nodding to, still trying to gauge what the other was trying to get out of this.

“I doubt you know, but I have a nephew. He’s got his heart in the right place, but the head’s wondering, if you know what I mean. Anyway, his mother has been trying to get him to focus on something worthwhile, and went and bought him a cello.” His chuckle staggers, nearing a snort, which tells He Tian that the buy had been unexpected.

He was jolly, this man, different to the rest of those in his mother’s circle. A lot more memorable. That aside, whatever any of this had to do in relation to He Tian was still a mystery. Felt like a lot of oversharing. The alcohol, maybe. “That’s lovely, I hope he enjoys it. The cello is a wonderful instrument.”

“Yes yes, well you see…he can’t play it. Or anything, really. It was a risky investment. I don’t think he’s even looked at it twice. I believe you two are around the same age,” the man says, too quickly for it to sound offhand – a point he clearly wanted to bring up, “And you already have a successful background with this stuff.”

He Tian’s grip tightens around the stem of his champagne flute. He sees exactly where this is going, is able to figure out the intent before it’s made obvious.

He’s taught before and it was always a frustrating hassle. He Tian wasn’t patient and he found it hard to be encouraging to pupils that _simply wouldn’t get it_. Ones that thought could outdo him were even worse. He hadn’t had a single student stay under his tutelage for longer than a month.

“It might do well for him to have a teacher. And for you too, I guess – don’t see you out socialising much, your mother brings it up a lot.” He claps He Tian on the arm and the air briefly turns awkward.

He Tian certainly doesn’t jump at the offer. The man notices the hesitance.

“I would of course, supply pay for the lessons, and to have you teach- well, premium rates would only be fair, right?” His eyes crinkle into slits as he smiles.

It was at that moment that his mother walks into their two-man circle, coming up to brush at nothing on the man’s suit-squared shoulder.

“Mr Lin, so lovely for you to come over, I apologise I haven’t greeted you properly this evening.”

“Not at all Mrs He, He Tian has been good company. Great performance as well, your son is gifted.”

“Of course, thank you. What has he said to be considered good company?” She smiles, taking Mr Lin’s glass and replacing it with a full one. Unlike Mr Lin’s smile, hers doesn’t reach the eyes. Partly because of the botox but mostly because it was genuinely ingenuine.

“I just brought up my nephew, I believe you know of Guan Shan?”

His mother’s mouth sours. “Oh. Yes of course, the…the lively young man.”

Something manic flashes in He Tian’s eyes, a glossy gleam overtaking previous dullness. Everything suddenly sharpens.

Mr Lin fails to catch the twitch in his mother’s nose but He Tian does. ‘Lively’ does not mean anything good, not to her. He was morbidly curious to know why the mere utterance of his name put a waver into his mother’s visage.

He eagerly awaits for Mr Lin to continue, mind buzzing with something he can’t make out yet, greedy for more information. His foot taps on the floor in a steady quick beat.

“Yes, well he’s got too much time on his hands and you know what happens with that. His mother bought him a cello in hopes of getting him focused on something, but he’s a complete beginner, wouldn’t know where to start. I thought to avoid her wasting her money completely it would be nice to see him actually playing, and He Tian here would be a suitable tutor.”

His mother’s voice goes up a few octaves, shrill and grating on the ears. “He Tian has had a very taxing year, he really does need time to de-stress and relax at home, I don’t think-“

“This wouldn’t be anything regular, a couple of hours a month at best, I understand that we all have our lives and commitments,” Mr Lin interrupts, “And considering this is He Tian we’re talking about, as I mentioned to him earlier, I’d be happy to pay a pretty price.”

He Tian turns to her, playing dumb and ignoring the warning in her eyes. She doesn’t care about him needing a rest, never has the year before or the year before that, so her twitchiness is coming from somewhere else. “I think it’s a good idea. I’ll have plenty of time to relax within these three months and maintain my playing at the same - as Mr Lin said earlier I shouldn’t neglect practice.”

He Tian already knows he’s won - she wouldn’t dare be impolite in front of guests.

As the night winds down he sees Mr Lin off, Guan Shan’s details already noted and saved into his phone. He feels his mother’s pointed stare boring into the back of his neck and smiles, closing the door.

\-------

They fight, him and his mother.

Nothing loud, just her subtle looks and mean-spirited jibes versus He Tian’s fake obtuseness. She always refers to Guan Shan as ‘Mr Lin’s nephew’, silently refusing to use his name, which only serves to fuel He Tian’s curiosity.

He Tian has tried to talk to Guan Shan, because the number he’d been given was his, not Mr Lin’s, but the other side of the conversation never replies. He’d assumed Mr Lin had simply written the number wrong but after a few texts and Mr Lin personally calling Guan Shan on the same number it was clear that nothing was wrong with it, he was simply being aired.

They both brush it off and arrange a date and time without Guan Shan's input. 

He hears more rumours and snippets about him through his mother’s huffy ramblings and the vague tidbits Mr Lin drops here and there, but again none of it holds much. If anything it blurred his mental image of Guan Shan further. 

He’d imagined, when he first heard of him, of someone with a resemblance to Mr Lin – dark russet (near brown) hair and a soft nose, with a neutrally warm expression. His mother snidely remarked that Guan Shan had once got into a fight at school that resulted in someone’s broken leg, and after the image morphed into someone a bit wilder, rougher. Same dark hair and nose but with bolder eyes.

He heard more as the days went by and his mental picture changed to the point where he couldn’t build a cohesive image at all.

The days leading up to him going to visit Guan Shan’s family apartment saw He Tian become increasingly bouncy, a small excitement that he tried to contain but bled out in the little things – mindless tapping and unnecessary rushing for everything.

\-------

Close to two weeks later he’s on the way with his violin case on his shoulder, travelling to the address that had been sent to him by Mr Lin. The journey felt a lot longer than the forty minutes it was meant to be.

He texts the number that hasn’t been replying to him and glares at every red light that slows them. He tells his chauffeur to drop him a few blocks away and walks the rest of the distance, wanting to scout out the area a little, get a feel for the place.

It’s standard, far from the luxury of the He estate. Things are a lot more cramped.

He arrives at door three hundred and thirty four and greets the occupier with a nonchalant demeanour that doesn’t at all reflect the internal buzz that has him drumming his fingers against his case strap.

“Ah good afternoon, you must be He Tian?” She says, voice light and welcoming.

“Yes, very pleasant meeting you, Ms-“

“Oh no no, auntie will do. Come on in.”

He Tian bows, a polite smile on his face that he knows makes him look disarming. He’s learnt from experience that if you get good from the beginning life becomes a lot easier and you get away with a lot more. He Tian was in a lot of good books, despite not doing much good.

“Come on through, my son should be back soon, I sent him to get me some ingredients. You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

He Tian sits on the chair she pulls out for him and she joins the one opposite. He takes off his bags and situates himself into a good posture.

“Did you want any tea? No? I’ll just put the kettle on and then join you, give me a few moments.”

He Tian and auntie talk through brief introductions. She knows who He Tian is and explains she sees him on TV, up-to-date on his music activities. She brings up Mr Lin as well, and tells He Tian that he’s helped a lot following the departure of her husband.

He Tian had assumed, probably due to Mr Lin having a respectable amount of money behind his business, that Guan Shan’s family would’ve been better off than it was.

The flat’s not bad but not great either. Space is limited and the interior design looks dated; mint green walls, orangey-beige furniture, and brick red tiling. There are a lot of plants strategically placed around the kitchen and living room in a way that conceals minor cracks and wonky wallpaper application.

“How have your studies been going?”

“Well thank you, passed the year without any issues.”

“That’s great, I’m sure you achieved higher than just a pass though, no need to be modest. Are you planning to continue?”

He did get above a pass but that doesn’t necessarily show much - He Tian could compose pieces that took him less effort than brushing his teeth and they showered him with accolades and praises regardless. He had wanted to drop out the first year he got in, but his mother wanted to have another diploma in their living room.

As long as prodigy He Tian worked his magic all could be swept under the rug.

He shakes his head and gets back to the present. “Yes, one more year and I’ll be graduating, would be nice to see it through to the end.”

“Definitely. So this will be your last carefree summer huh. I remember those days, my parents planned for a big trip to Jiuzhaigou, to experience nature and openness before I would finish my course and work here. We rarely got to just enjoy life, so trips like that were always a treat. That seems so long ago now, I haven’t been outside the city for decades…”

She has a faraway look in her eyes, longing.

“Decades? Auntie, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

“Oh stop it you.” She laughs and the vacant quality in her features diminishes somewhat. She fixes her fringe and fiddles with her hair, a gesture of embarrassment. “Look at me rambling. What I meant to say is that you should savour these free times while you have them, adult life will not rush to give you breaks.”

“Thank you, I’ll try to make the best of it.”

“You are so polite, my son could learn a thing or two from you.” She says, although her expression is warm. “And I guess he will be. The cello’s just sitting in his room and collecting dust, it would be nice to see it used. I was going to ask, actually, whether you’re confident with the cello? I’ve only ever seen your violin performances, I hope we’re not pushing you into something you’re not fully comfortable with.”

“Oh not at all. I’ve picked up a few instruments in my studies, cello included. I’ve taught classes before.”

“Ah that’s great, wouldn’t want this to be too bothersome for you.”

He Tian nods with another charming smile, dismissing her worries. Technically their lesson was to start at two and it was now two o’clock on the dot (he’d arrived ten minutes in advance for punctuality, first impressions and all).

It was at this point, just as the kettle boils to a finish, that a muffled tinkle of keys sound at the door. Right on time.

“Ma I’m home.”

The reason behind He Tian even being here finally arrives, plastic bags in hand and shoes still on.

Guan Shan looks like his mother, the same hair and the same eyes, a soft ginger, although his features are a lot sharper and his gaze is brittle. There’s not much likeness to Mr Lin at all.

He looks like a stray cat; lazily wary, cautious, tense. There’s some kindness in his eyes as he greets his mother, however the instance he spots He Tian a scowl forms on his face. His little eyebrows scrunch over his eyes. Cute, but uninviting.

He Tian stands up with pleasant goosebumps prickling along his back and arms, not forgetting to tuck his chair back into the table. He could already tell why his mother didn’t want He Tian to meet him. He was the type that showed up as hooligans in newspapers.

“Who’s this?” Guan Shan barks, stomping towards the counter to place down the shopping bags he was holding, eyes fixed on He Tian the whole time.

“This is He Tian, he will be teaching you the cello that I bought and you haven’t touched,” she says pointedly, ruffling through the bags. “…Shannie, where are the leeks? I wrote them down didn’t I?”

“I don’t want to play that stupid thing, and I don’t need a teacher!”

He keeps a distance from He Tian and murmurs rough complaints to his mum as they unpack. She dismisses them all with a shake of her head. He Tian’s sure he hears a firm ‘stop being a child and go’.

Guan Shan tries some more excuses but his mum doesn’t relent. After it’s clear that he’s not going to get his way he roughly herds He Tian into his room and slams the door shut with a lot more force than necessary. 

He Tian makes himself at home and hops to the bed, giving it a few test bounces. It creaks but feels comfortable.

“What the fuck, sit on the chair!”

“You know, ‘Shannie’, you’re meant to treat guests hospitably.” He says, remaining right where he is.

Guan Shan scowls and begrudgingly sits on the swivel chair himself, arms petulantly crossed on his chest.

The room is a dim blue, matching the green in the other room, however the furniture is a lighter shade of wood than in the living room. It’s small, there isn’t much free floor space, and the ceiling is low. Looking up he can see faint marks of glue on it, peeled edges looking like outlines of stars.

His eyes then land on the cello case, haphazardly slung into a corner by a pile of clothes.

Guan Shan follows his gaze and firmly states ‘I’m not playing’ without He Tian saying anything. 

He Tian hums and goes to pick out the case, handling it with care and clicking it open atop the bed, disregarding the other's grumbles.

There's silence between them as He Tian studies the cello, smoothing his fingertips over its body and experimentally plucking on the strings. It's a nice instrument, better quality than typical student grade cellos, but is second hand – the bow hairs definitely needed replacing and there are a lot of general scuffs on its body.

He gently takes it out and sets it up on its end pin, situating it between his legs. “I can buy and install new bow hair and tune it next time I come.” He offers.

“No need.”

“So, are you studying as well?”

“What’s it matter?”

“Are there any songs you want to learn?”

“Fuck off by Mo Guan Shan.”

He Tian plays along. He can be very patient (when he wants to be). “I don’t know that one, sounds complex for a beginner. You want to start with something manageable.”

“Yeah I can fucking see you don’t.”

They simply look at each other and He Tian likes those eyes on him. For some reason it inspires competition, one He Tian can’t physically see.

“We’ll start with twinkle twinkle little star in pizzicato, won’t need to use the bow that way.” He Tian’s smile widens at Guan Shan’s continually deepening glare.

“You’re so irritating, I see your face on the stupid TV nearly everyday.”

“Yeah? Do you like my playing?”

“No, your music is boring as shit.”

Ah, he hears this a lot about classical music, no surprise. “So you dislike classical music.”

Guan Shan tsk’s and his shoulders hunch up, tensing even more than before. His eyes are impossibly intense, full of hatred that He Tian doesn’t understand.

“No,” He says slowly, like He Tian is a child that needs time to process the word, “I don’t mind it, I said _your_ music is boring.”

He Tian’s finger’s pause on the strings, producing a discordant, unpleasant ‘twang’. A pressing pang briefly suffocates his lungs. That’s not something he’s heard in a long time. He stands up, looming over Guan Shan, voice no longer playful. “Yeah?”

Guan Shan snorts without humour, like He Tian’s question has a painfully obvious answer and he's the only one in the know. “You’re only where you are now ‘cause you look good. Your playing sounds like those example audio tracks they play at school – perfect and dull.”

Guan Shan was now also standing, voice ghosting over He Tian’s face. Their noses almost touch. He Tian can’t take a breath of air, anticipating Guan Shan’s words.

“I would be embarrassed, wouldn’t be able to stand looking at my own fucking face, knowing I played absolute shit and earned thousands from it. My mum takes the time out of her day to watch you perform on that stupid programme, _her time_ , time she’ll never get back, for _that_. She was thinking of paying, once, to see you. For that.”

He Tian feels the tension of a fight drifting between them and it’s electric.

Except, he can’t do anything with the energy; he’s shocked to stillness. He can barely adapt to the sudden change in atmosphere.

“You-“

“Get the fuck out. I don’t want lessons, or anything, from someone like you.”

He Tian blinks.

In his state Guan Shan ushers him out of the room without much effort, well before their one hour slot is up.

“Ah, are you boys done? I heard some nice tunes, well done. Quite quick though, does-”

“I didn’t do shit.” Guan Shan grumbles at his mother and drags He Tian to the door. He Tian snaps out of it, although his mind is still whirring with the earlier words, ‘perfect and dull’. The mere replay affects him all over again and he shivers. 

He briefly becomes an actor, finding a voice despite not feeling collected. “Right?” He says brightly. “‘Shannie’ has an innate talent for music, it seems.” He drops his hand onto Guan Shan’s shoulder as some sort of anchor only for him to yank it off.

“No such thing as talent. Go home.”

He Tian agrees. Guan Shan is becoming increasingly appealing. He Tian doesn’t know what to do with himself. He feels awkward, unorganised. Maybe he should have listened to his mother.

He turns to Guan Shan’s mother with a cordial smile. “It was nice meeting you auntie, I’m glad I had the opportunity to-”

“Good. Now leave.”

“Shan.” Guan Shan’s mother sternly calls his name, warning in her eyes. Guan Shan shoots a vaguely apologetic look in her direction but his impatience to have He Tian out doesn’t go anywhere.

“Actually, see He Tian off to the station and buy the leeks on your way back.”

He Tian nearly chortles at the angry disbelief on Guan Shan’s face.

Guan Shan tsk’s again but grabs his wallet and leaves the apartment. He doesn’t wait for He Tian like a polite host would (and should) but He Tian keeps up with his quick steps and sharp turns.

Crisp air hits him immediately. It’s gotten dark.

“There.” Guan Shan points, red hair appearing brown in the limited, blue-toned lamppost lights. “The stations’ couple of minutes left.”

“Oh but I don’t know this area, I could get lost.”

“Use your phone to navigate then, s’not that hard.” He grumbles and turns to head off.

He Tian catches his wrist and holds on despite the immediate protests and shoves. “How would I know which train to take?” He tilts his head in question, voice calm.

“The one you got here with idiot, let go!” Another shove.

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“I don’t give a shit, ask the people that work there.”

“Hm, guess I’ll try. So when do you want to arrange our next lesson for?”

The fighting stops and Guan Shan regards him, his tone serious. “Was the message not clear?”

“Your mother wants you to play.”

“We’ll find someone else. Fuck off.”

“No. You won’t.” A command. He jerks Guan Shan back by the wrist hard, getting him closer. “I’m teaching you.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Mr Lin asked for me personally.”

For the first time he sees hesitance in Guan Shan and realises how he must look to him right now. He lets up on his hold and takes a step back, mood between them now sombre.

Guan Shan massages his wrists free from the pressure and similarly moves back. He glares a final time and leaves, running away in the opposite direction.

He Tian notices, however, that his speed is not from wanting to finally shoo away from him, but from fear. Their meeting feels incomplete. Everything is jumbled.

A sigh leaves him and he waves despite Guan Shan being long gone. He takes out a cigarette and dials his driver, leaning against the wall in his wait.

Guan Shan was both everything and nothing like he’d expected. A hot-head loudmouth who was simultaneously quiet and unobtrusive – his presence wasn’t grating or tiring or annoying. An endearing mix. He’d never get bored.

His thoughts turn to the criticisms he received earlier and his mind goes dark. He wants to know exactly what Guan Shan thinks about his music. Every little detail. He wants an essay, a public review, wants everyone to hear as He Tian heard, because it was truth. It seems no one else saw his efforts, or the complete lack of them. He wanted to steal Guan Shan’s angry, impassioned words and put it into his scores.

Car lights flash onto him as his ride drives to pull up.He's sure of one thing, though. He crushes his cigarette into the tarmac and decides they’ll be friends.

Not could be, not might be, _will_ be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say now updates will likely be slow - I've kind of tried to make it so that each chapter finishes in a way that's sort of 'complete', but yeah, be warned. I also kind of made He Tian's and Guan Shan's mothers into whatever I needed them to be, so soz about that. 
> 
> Lemme know your thoughts!


End file.
